


Picking up the pieces

by GreatMarta



Category: Ballerina | Leap! (2016)
Genre: F/M, Missing Scene, Off-screen Relationship(s), inner monologue, merandette, merdette, post audition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 16:37:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13170897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreatMarta/pseuds/GreatMarta
Summary: Odette and Mérante's reactions to Félicie's audition and the drama that followed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All of my friends are putting their Ballerina/Leap fanfiction here. I was going to keep mine on Tumblr, but this site makes for easier navigation, so here it is.

Never before has Louis Mérante been so disappointed in a student as he now was in Félicie Le Bras.

Not only did the girl come to the final audition inexcusably late, looking as if she’d woken up mere minutes prior, she admitted that she hadn’t practiced the day before. When asked why, she fixed her gaze on the floor, thoroughly embarrassed and unable to utter a word.

Mérante resisted the urge to scream his throat out and ordered the girl to perform. He decided to give her the benefit of doubt, though it was painfully obvious she would not be showing anything worthy of his attention. When she tripped, he had her start over again. Ideally, he’d have her keep at it until she vomited. If she was forced to make up for every hour she had wasted the day before with two hours of solid practice, she might have learned her lesson.

When the girl fell again, panting heavily, Mérante’s heart sank. There was no point in continuing this farce. Félicie has wasted her chance. There was nothing more he could do for her. Not when she proved just how little she thought of the favors he’d so generously bestowed upon her until now.

She let him down. He trusted her, believed in her, and she let him down.

It hurt him more than he was willing to admit.

No orphan has ever been given an opportunity this grand. No girl ever got away with the sort of deception Félicie committed. She ought to have been flogged and sent back where she came from. Instead, she got to participate in ballet master classes and compete with experienced trainees for the role in an actual show. The child must have thought she caught the God himself by the heels. With this mindset, she was doomed to failure.

Mérante cursed himself internally. He should have known Félicie wouldn’t appreciate his generosity. She was way too young, too naïve, too immature to seriously consider her future. At her age, even girls from proper houses couldn’t be trusted to practice regularly, care for their equipment properly, or even keep themselves hydrated. Why should Félicie have been an exception?

Because she was Odette’s protégée.

Mérante let his feelings get in the way of his work, and thus caused this disaster.

Alas, it was too late for regrets. Félicie failed to complete the choreography. Mérante had no choice but to award the role of Clara to Camille Le Haut. He did so with heavy heart, and promptly headed out of the room. He did not want to witness Félicie’s despair.

(…)

As Félicie Le Bras filled the stage with bitter weeps, somebody else was mourning her defeat. The girl’s mentor, the former ballerina Odette, was devastated. It was her fault. It was all her fault. If only she had been more responsible, she could have prevented this. She should have put her foot down and kept the girl at home. She should have made her practice and rest properly. What was it that she did instead?

She took offense at the child’s brief moment of rebellion. A few bitter words from the girl’s mouth were all it took to make Odette push her away. Félicie wasn’t even trying to hurt her, and apologized right away, but Odette acted as if the girl had spat into her face. Heavens above, she practically threw the child out of the house. And why? Because she put up a fight? She was a child, for crying out loud. She didn’t know any better. Odette was an adult, she should have been wiser. Instead, she acted as if she were younger than her protégée.

You are not my mom – Félicie had said. And boy, was she right. A mother would have put her child’s best interest above her own. Not like Odette, who let herself by blinded by rage and told the girl to leave. She regretted it right afterwards, but it was already too late. That brief moment of agitation sealed Félicie’s future.

Heavens above, why did Félicie’s words hurt her so much? She wasn’t lying, was she? They were not a mother and daughter. They were not even remotely related. They were a master and a student.

No, they were more than that. They were family. So what if they weren’t related by blood? Odette cared for Félicie, cared for her like she hadn’t for anybody in a long time. She was sure the little orphan returned the sentiment. The faintest possibility of it not being the case made her heart bleed. And that’s why she reacted as irrationally as she did.

Those we care about the most cause us the most pain. Like Félicie did Odette. Like Odette did Félicie.

The former ballerina tries to be strong. This was a bitter lesson for herself, but even more so for her young protégée. After all, Félicie is still just a child. She is going to need support. She is going to need a mother figure. Somebody she can trust.

This time, Odette will step up to the challenge.


	2. Chapter 2

The girl was gone.

It was hard to comprehend. For one so small, so inconspicuous, she sure created a lot of hassle and touched many lives. Odette’s life in particular. This little girl with an enormous dream clung to her, looked up to her, followed her like an overjoyed puppy, not realizing what a significant figure she had become to the solemn cleaning lady. And she would never know, for she was sent back whence she came, never to be seen again.

Watching the carriage ride further and further away, Odette was overtaken by a crippling insecurity. She wanted to scream, but her voice betrayed her. She wanted to run, but her legs felt weaker than ever. Only her mind raced, thoughts of regret assaulting the very core of her existence.

She would never see Félicie again. She will never get to tell her she had become her beacon of hope, much less say goodbye. The last words they exchanged shall remain those of bitterness and grudge.

The realization stole the ground from underneath Odette’s feet. 

She knew it would come to this eventually. She may have been trying to delude herself into thinking otherwise, but she was perfectly aware of the unyielding reality. The truth was that she had been keeping a runaway orphan illegally. She was not a relative of Félicie’s, not even a legal guardian. Realistically, she should consider herself fortunate for avoiding prosecution.

Odette wanted to adopt Félicie. The thought did cross her mind more than once. Alas, what was it that she could offer this poor child? She worked a minimum wage job, walked with a limp, and had no idea where she was going to live now that Mademe Le Haut had sacked her. Only a complete lunatic would trust somebody this miserable to look after a child. There was no point in even trying. 

As much as it hurt the former ballerina, her protégée belonged in the orphanage. She most certainly had caretakers there who were concerned for her. People willing to provide for her, if not with affection, then with shelter and meals. Which was more than could be said about Odette.

The former ballerina sat down where she stood and sobbed uncontrollably. 

(…)

Mérante found Odette on the stairs outside of the Opera. He figured she’d be upset about her protégée’s performance – or lack thereof – and not in the mood to see anybody, much less him, who passed the final judgment. Still, it felt appropriate to address her, to express his sincerest condolences at this turn of events. Thus, having taken a deep breath, the master choreographer approached his muse. 

And saw that she was crying.

Odette never cried. Not in a place like this, where anybody could see her. Whatever blow she was dealt, she took it with dignity and carried on. The way she was now, with reddened eyes and countless trails left by tears over an expression of absolute defeat, she looked so foreign. So unlike herself. To make matters worse, she noticed him. Locked her eyes with his. And made no attempt at concealing her misery.

Mérante was absolutely terrified. He clearly underestimated just how attached Odette had become of Félicie. This had to be her most critical condition since that fateful fire ten years prior.

The former ballerina broke the eye contact first. Carelessly she wiped her eyes and stared into the distance, attempting in vain to catch her breath. 

The ballet master swallowed hard.

“Odette…?”

He could not think of anything else to say.

Through faint weeps, he caught her reply – a barely audible whisper.

“They took her… My Félicie…”

Every syllable felt like a bullet to Mérante’s heart. He had his part in it. He failed the girl. He proposed this deal in the first place. He thought he was doing the orphan and her caretaker a favor, but his misguided generosity left them both with shattered dreams and broken hearts. How could he possibly make up for it? How could he comfort Odette and not sound like a hypocrite?

Assaulted by emotions, the ballet master sat down beside the grieving woman and placed his hand on her shoulder.

He caught a glimpse of her gritted teeth before she pressed her head hard against his chest and broke into hysterical sobbing.

For a moment he was paralyzed. His body stiffened, with the exception of the heart, which hammered like crazy. Odette ignored it, lost in despair, clutching the lapel of his coat harder than she ever did her cane. As Mérante’s mental powers gradually returned to him, he dared pet the grieving woman’s back, moving his hand in a circular motion, as delicately as if he were cleaning the most fragile porcelain. He kept at it as Odette’s cries weakened and her grip lessened, ever so slowly.

“It’s my fault” she whispered into his chest. “It’s all my fault. I should have made her practice. I should have….”

A new sob blocked her throat. After that she could not continue.

Mérante felt a resolve form within him. It was time to act like a man and take control of the situation.

“Odette” he said gently, yet firmly. “Odette, look at me”

Hesitant, she tore her head from his chest.

“Odette” he intoned. “What you have done for Félicie is more than anybody has ever done for her. Whatever pain you may have caused her could not possibly be worse than what she’s already been through. I am willing to bet my very head that she considers you her Fairy Godmother, somebody who’s given her a piece of a better world she never could have accessed on her own. Even if she never returns to the Opera, she will have memories to hold onto and derive inspiration from. And that is more than most orphans could say about themselves”

As he delivered his speech, Odette watched him with cautious doubt. She did not look away, she did not cry, she just listened. And he stared at her intensively, loading his words with all the passion he could muster, praying that his words and conviction would ease her pain somewhat. When he finished talking, he maintained the eye contact, mentally begging her to believe him. She endured his gaze for several moments, seemingly unaffected. Then, after what seemed like forever, she lowered her head in a weary defeat.

“I don’t know what to do” she confessed, her voice weak, but far from hysterical. Mérante took it as a good omen.

“I am here for you” he told her gently. “I will help you get through this. I will do everything within my power. I promise”

Like I couldn’t all these years ago – he added in his head. 

Wishing to underline his intentions, he took the liberty of taking Odette’s hand into his. He gave her a reassuring smile, or at least he hoped it looked reassuring. She considered him without much enthusiasm, but did not resist his touch. After a brief moment of hesitation she placed her other hand over his. Another moment later she returned his smile.

This was all the gratitude he needed.

They stayed like this for a while before he decided to break the comfortable silence. 

“Do you want me to walk you home?”

Her smile faded. “I… I can’t stay there. Madame Le Haut sacked me”

Not much of a surprise.

Suddenly inspired, Mérante blurted: “Then you will live here”

Odette frowned. “Here?”

“In the Opera. There is plenty of space. I will find you a room”

The more he spoke, the more it seemed like the best idea ever. At least to him. Odette still looked unsure.

“But…”

“No buts” he cut her firmly. “I will get a carriage, we will retrieve your belongings and have you set up in your new home. You won’t have to worry about anything. How does that sound?”

He gave her a few moments to voice her objections, but none came. She’d given up. He could see it. 

“Wait here. I will get a carriage”

To this, she gave him a slight nod.

He could not help smiling like an idiot.

Something good just might have come out of this unfortunate turn of events.


	3. Chapter 3

The reminder of the day passed in a blur. Exhausted by her misery, Odette followed Mérante’s lead and let herself be escorted into a carriage he had summoned. When he kindly let her know they have arrived in front of Madame Le Haut’s tenement, she mindlessly went and retrieved however little she owed from the room she’d occupied just last night. Madame Le Haut might’ve been watching – probably did – but Odette couldn’t be bothered to notice. She only had enough consciousness to pack her humble belongings and return to the carriage. Mérante respectfully refrained from entering her former quarters, but he did offer to carry her bag as soon as she emerged. Later he carried it all the way to the Opera’s attic, where he meant to accommodate Odette. The room in question was one of the classrooms he had at his disposal. It was empty, save for a couple of chairs, some curtains, and round windows as big as a person. There wasn’t anything that could be used as a bed; Mérante’s solution was to raid the wardrobes and prop storage, from whence he fetched a pile of various fabrics – enough to make a humble bedding.

When everything was put into place, the ballet master turned to the former ballerina. “Will you be alright?”

She gave a weak nod. “Yes. I guess”

Hesitant, he addressed her again. “Do you need anything? Or do you want me to leave you alone?”

In all honesty, she didn’t want him to leave. He provided her with the support she so badly needed. Alas, to ask him to stay would be inappropriate. Even if they weren’t a man and a woman without a chaperone, she’s wasted enough of his time. Still, a simple ‘yes’ proved too hard to articulate. After all he’s done for her, to dismiss Mérante with a single word seemed inhumane. ‘Thank you’ was a better option, yet somehow lacking in power.

Odette locked her eyes with the ballet master’s. Slowly, she approached him. Reached for his hand. And raised it to her lips.

His face turned a bright shade of red.

To this, Odette smiled innocently. “Thank you. For everything” after a brief paused, she added “Louis”

She hardly ever used his given name these days. She hardly ever spoke to him, period. He was a prominent figure, a famous choreographer, and she a mere cleaning lady. The distance between them was so vast it hurt. Now, however, it didn’t matter. As if they turned back in time, to the times of their youth, when both of them had capable bodies and the passion to rule the stage. 

Louis had said that Odette had given Félicie memories to hold on to. Félicie, in turn, had given Odette a part of her life she had lost so long ago. 

In her friend’s eyes, the former ballerina saw that he felt the same. “You’re welcome” he said, touched to the core.

No further words were needed.


End file.
